


Survivor's Guilt

by Agapostemon



Series: Draw on the Walls [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Families of Choice, Gallows Humor, Gen, Healing, Heavy Angst, Hopeful Ending, Hospitalization, Hurt/Comfort, Matt Holt has ADHD, Matt Holt has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Medical Trauma, Shiro (Voltron) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2018-10-11 15:16:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10467996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Agapostemon/pseuds/Agapostemon
Summary: “What were you doing at my house in pajamas this morning?” Shiro groans.“Oh, uh…” Matt stammers, “Y-your boss called me? You didn’t show up to work, and she was worried. And then I got worried, because… your texts last night were a little scary to begin with, but then you didn’t show up to work? Anyways, I drove over to check on you, and your door was unlocked, so…” he gestures vaguely.





	1. Circling the Edge

**Author's Note:**

> Content Warnings: Somewhat graphic aftermath of a suicide attempt, vomit, pee, psych hospitalization, cursing
> 
> This takes place in the Cardboard Castles AU, about three years after [Somebody Catch My Breath](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9623495) (almost exactly a year before [Blessings](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9767168/chapters/21951749)).
> 
> Character Ages for Reference:  
> Shiro - 26  
> Allura - 26  
> Matt - 24  
> Pidge - 15  
> Sam & Colleen - Old enough to parent Matt & Pidge

When Matt fumbles to turn off his phone alarm, he notices he has a series of texts from Shiro awaiting him.

> **Shiro (3:58am): Hey Matt, you up?**
> 
> **Shiro (4:00am): Sorry for disturbing you. I just… wondered if you remembered the other people from our plane.**
> 
> **Shiro (4:00am): I feel like I should, but I don’t.**
> 
> **Shiro (4:02am): God, how awful is that? I killed them, but I can’t even remember who they were.**
> 
> **Shiro (4:02am): What kind of person does that make me?**

There are a couple missed calls, too, from around the same time. Which is unusual. Shiro rarely calls. He feels a pang of guilt for not responding, but he’d gone to bed with a monster headache and had to knock himself out with every painkiller and sleep med available to him. He’d been kind of dead to the world at 4am. Oh well, he’ll just respond now.

> _Matt (10:05am): hey buddy!! sounds like you had a rough night last night_
> 
> _Matt (10:05am): i hope you got some sleep eventually_
> 
> _Matt (10:06am): you’re not awful, I promise_
> 
> _Matt (10:06am): sometimes my memory is weird about what happened, too_

He’s not too worried when Shiro doesn’t immediately reply. After all, it’s a work day in Shiro’s world. The call he gets about half an hour later is slightly more concerning, though. He doesn’t recognize the number, but he answers anyways.

“Heyo,” he greets, not sure who’s on the other line, “Matt Holt at your service.”

“Yes, hello,” says a soft voice with a British accent, “I’m calling about Takashi Shirogane? Shiro? This is his supervisor, Allura. He didn’t show up for work, today, and I’m a bit concerned.”

Matt blinks, “He didn’t? That’s weird. Wait, how did you get my number, anyways?”

“You’re listed as his emergency contact,” Allura explains, “I realize this isn’t what emergency contacts are for, but he speaks fondly of you, and I was hoping you might know if he’s alright. He’s not one to miss work unannounced… or at all, for that matter.”

Matt’s brow furrows, “No, he isn’t. That’s… really weird. Hang on, I’m free today. I’m gonna go over to his place to check in on him. Uh, can I text you at this number if I need to?”

“Yes, this is my cell,” Allura responds, “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Matt says, then hangs up.

He doesn’t even bother to change out of his pajamas, just grabs his keys and slips on some sandals before heading out the door to drive to Shiro’s apartment.

\-----------

Shiro doesn’t respond when Matt knocks, but his front door is unlocked, so Matt just lets himself in. It’s hardly the first time he’s invited himself into Shiro’s apartment, and he’s a little too worried to bother with manners.

“Hey Shiro?” Matt calls out as he walks through the door, “You home?”

No response.

Matt peeks his head through the open bedroom and bathroom doors, finding no signs of his friend. Which just leaves the office. That door is closed, so Matt knocks tentatively. Still no response.

He tests the doorknob. It’s not locked, so he pushes his way in.

Oh _no._

“Takashi?” Matt whispers as soon as he sees Shiro. His friend is curled up in a fetal position in the middle of the floor. He’s shaking violently and glassy-eyed, apparently heedless of the dark, wet stain at the front of his pants or the pool of vomit his face is resting in. “Oh no. Hang on, I’m gonna get you some towels."

He ducks into the bathroom and grabs every towel he can find, then returns to Shiro’s side, sitting down just behind his head. “Hey Shiro, d’you know where you are?” Matt asks as he spreads a towel over his own cross-legged lap.

Shiro responds with a faint whimper.

“Okay,” Matt says, trying hard to keep his voice steady, “Okay. You’re in your office. You’re with me. Matt. It’s July 2014 and you’re safe,” Matt hopes that last part isn’t a lie, “I’m gonna move your head, okay?”

Shiro doesn’t protest, so Matt proceeds. Shiro is heavy on a good day, but right now he’s practically dead weight. Really shaky dead weight covered in puke. But eventually Matt succeeds in getting his head into his lap.

Once Shiro is situated, Matt drapes a towel across his friend’s hips in an attempt to preserve at least a little of his dignity, “Hey, you’re probably gonna be really embarrassed when you snap outta this, but don’t be. Remember the time I had a nightmare and wet the bed while you were staying with me? I won’t judge, I promise.” He runs a hand through the not-vomit-encrusted part of his friend’s hair and chokes back tears.

Just as Matt is trying to parse whether he’s dealing with the aftermath of a particularly bad panic attack or something else, Shiro answers his question by having a seizure in his lap.

It doesn’t last long, but it’s enough to send Matt into a fit of panicked tears. He knows he should do something—remind Shiro where he’s at, call 911, anything—but he’s busy hyperventilating and sobbing so hard that he gags.

Eventually he pulls himself together enough to pull out his phone, but by pure frightened instinct he ends up calling his mom instead of 911. She picks up on the first ring, and Matt proceeds to sob into the receiver for a solid 30 seconds without speaking a word.

“Hi Matty, what’s wrong honey?” his mom finally interjects.

He hiccups and sniffles his nose, “Mom, c-can you call 911 for me? I c-c-can’t I’m t-too scared,” he sucks air in and lets out another sob, “P-p-please, I need to help Shiro.”

“Okay, calm down sweetie,” his mom coos, “Tell me what happened.”

“H-he—” Matt sobs again, “I d-don’t really know! _Fuck_. I th-think he might’ve—hic—overd-d-dosed on his meds?”

His mom doesn’t ask why. They both know why. So instead she calmly asks for their location and Shiro’s symptoms and if Matt knows what meds he’s on. Then she promises to call 911 and hangs up.

Once he’s off the phone, Matt folds over and cries weakly into Shiro’s still-shaking shoulder, “Fuck, I’m so sorry. I must be—hic—scaring you so bad, Takashi. God, as if this wasn’t scary enough for you already.” He frantically smooths his shaking hand over his friend’s back again and again, “I dunno how much you heard. D’you know what’s goin’ on? We’re gonna take a ride in an ambulance, soon. Gonna get you some help.”

By the time the EMTs arrive, Shiro is snoring. Which is honestly kind of comforting, because the lawnmower-like sound serves as a constant reminder that he’s still alive. Still breathing. Matt is reluctant to excavate himself out from under his friend to let the EMTs in the front door, but he knows he has to.

\-----------

They let Matt ride in the ambulance, for which he is eternally grateful. He holds Shiro’s hand while one of the EMTs assures him that he’s still conscious, just asleep. His blood pressure is low, but his heartbeat looks okay. He’s probably gotten the worst of it out of his system already. All of which is helpful.

The other EMT shares that their uncle committed suicide by overdosing. Which is less helpful.

Once they arrive at the hospital, Shiro gets a sponge bath and a clean gown before being hooked up to an assortment of machines. The actual doctor is only there long enough to determine that all Shiro needs is monitoring, IV fluids and a psych eval. Which is either reassuring or a sign that the doctor doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Matt’s hoping for the former.

Once the chaos dies down, Matt remembers that he was supposed to text Allura his findings. Shit. This isn’t really something he wants to be texting a virtual stranger about. Especially not a virtual stranger who happens to be Shiro’s boss. He pulls out his phone and tries his best to explain without either making himself cry or breeching his friend’s privacy.

> _Matt (12:34pm): hey uh, it’s matt_
> 
> _Matt (12:34pm): sorry I didn’t get back to you sooner, but I figured out why shiro didn’t show up at work_
> 
> _Matt (12:35pm): medical emergency_
> 
> _Matt (12:35pm): is the reason for both of those things_
> 
> **Allura (12:37pm): Oh dear! I hope he’s alright. What happened?**
> 
> _Matt (12:37pm): maybe I should let him explain the specifics when he’s a little more awake_
> 
> _Matt (12:37pm): it’s a little personal_
> 
> **Allura (12:37pm): That’s perfectly understandable.**
> 
> **Allura (12:38pm): Do keep me updated if he’s unable to, though.**
> 
> _Matt (12:38pm): will do_

He almost puts away his phone, then realizes he still hasn’t updated his mom. He should probably do that while he has his phone out.

> _Matt (12:39pm): Hi Mom. We got to the hospital safe and sound._
> 
> _Matt (12:39pm): Shiro’s stable. He’s snoozing right next to me in a hospital bed. I guess they’re gonna monitor him overnight and do a psych eval tomorrow._
> 
> _Matt (12:40pm): Anyways, I’m sticking around to keep him company when he wakes up. Any chance you could swing by and drop off my phone charger?_
> 
> _Matt (12:40pm): And maybe my wallet? And laptop? And a pillow? And some snacks?_
> 
> **Colleen (12:41pm): Good to hear! I’ll come bring your stuff as soon as I finish grocery shopping with your sister.**
> 
> **Colleen (12:41pm): Tell my bonus son I say hi if he wakes up before I get there. :)**
> 
> _Matt (12:41pm): Thanks Mom. I will. <3_
> 
> _Matt (12:42pm): Oh, and some clean underwear! I’m still in my pajamas._
> 
> **Colleen (12:42pm): lol! Will do. Love you muchly! Both of you.**

\-----------

Shiro doesn’t wake up before Colleen arrives, but he does stir when Pidge runs into the room and wraps him in an awkward bedside hug.

“Mom, you brought Pidge?” Matt asks, looking up from his phone with a frown.

Colleen shrugs, “She wanted to come. I wasn’t gonna stop her.”

Matt is about to protest, but he’s interrupted by Shiro murmuring, “Katie? Where am I?” His voice is small and confused.

“It’s Pidge, now,” she huffs defensively.

Colleen puts a hand on her daughter’s shoulder, “Takashi’s probably feeling very disoriented right now, be patient with him.”

Matt jumps out of his chair and practically sprints the few feet over to his friend’s bedside, grabbing his hand, “Hey! You’re awake.”

Shiro responds with a confused hum.

Oh. Right. Matt softens his voice, “You’re in the hospital. I… found you. This morning. You had a seizure—more than one, most likely—which is probably why you feel so out of it. You uh—” he shoots a wary look at his sister, because she doesn’t need to hear this.

“You took all your meds at once,” Pidge interjects matter-of-factly, “Were you trying to kill yourself?”

Matt blinks at his sister, then glowers at their mom.

“What? I’m fifteen. I don’t live under a rock,” Pidge says, mostly to Matt.

Meanwhile, Shiro looks deeply ashamed, “I… was, yeah.”

“Well, don’t,” Pidge responds simply.

Shiro responds with a small, wry laugh, “I’ll keep that in mind next time I’m considering killing myself.”

Matt snorts at this, earning him a look from his mom.

“Alright, we can’t stay for long, but I’m glad we had a chance to say hi,” says Colleen. She hands a rust-colored backpack over to Matt, along with a pillow in a Star Wars pillow case, “Here you go. There’s a change of clothes in the bag, along with a bunch of snacks and as many of your electronics as I could find in the disaster area you call a bedroom.”

“Thanks Mom,” he says, setting down his stuff and letting go of Shiro’s hand long enough to give his mom a tight hug.

“Of course,” she replies, kissing his forehead, “Text me if you need anything, okay?”

“Will do,” Matt nods.

After they separate, Pidge wraps her arms around Matt’s waist and hisses, “Don’t you _dare_ try and pull something like this, Matt!”

“I won’t,” he murmurs back, hoping he’s telling the truth, “I promise.”

With that, Colleen plants a quick kiss on Shiro’s forehead, wishing him a smooth recovery, and then she and Pidge are on their way. Once they’re gone, Shiro grunts weakly and wiggles his left hand (currently his only hand, because he wasn’t wearing his prosthetic when they got in the ambulance) in Matt’s direction. Matt takes it and holds it tight.

After a moment, Shiro speaks up quietly, “I’m sorry you had to find me.”

“Not your fault,” Matt murmurs back.

Shiro looks like he doesn’t believe that for a second, but he’s apparently too tired to argue because instead he closes his eyes and mumbles, “What’s the prognosis?”

Oh. It hadn’t occurred to Matt that Shiro still doesn’t know his own prognosis. As far as he knows, he could be on his death bed. He gives his friend’s hand a squeeze, “They think you’re through the worst of it. They’re monitoring your heart and keeping you on IV fluids overnight, though, just in case. Then tomorrow they’re gonna do a psych eval, so… that’ll be fun.”

“Ah, okay.” He can’t tell if Shiro is disappointed or relieved. Maybe a little of both. Before Matt gets the chance to ask, though, his friend drifts back to sleep. He smiles softly and pulls a chair up next to the bed so he can play his DS to the tune of Shiro’s cacophonous snores.

\-----------

Maybe an hour later, Shiro wakes up and sits bolt upright in a panic. Matt stands up and puts his hands on his friend’s shoulders, “Hey, careful. Don’t wanna rip out your IV. What’s wrong, Shiro?”

Shiro takes a couple more desperate gulps of air before gagging violently. Nothing comes up except a trickle of bile and a lot of spit.

“Oh. Buddy, that’s gotta hurt,” Matt hits the call button and rubs Shiro’s back as he dry heaves several more times, tears and snot streaming down his face.

By the time the nurse arrives, the gagging has mostly subsided, leaving Shiro slumped over his overbed table, shaking like a leaf and crying as Matt continues to rub his back. The nurse isn’t terribly comforting, but he does have the power to get Shiro a clean blanket, a box of tissues and some water to rinse his mouth out with.

After the nurse leaves, Shiro rolls his head towards Matt, brow creased, “You’re still in your pajamas.”

“Yeah, and you’re in a hospital gown. Your point?” Matt replies.

“What were you doing at my house in pajamas this morning?” Shiro groans.

“Oh, uh…” Matt stammers, “Y-your boss called me? You didn’t show up to work, and she was worried. And then _I_ got worried, because… your texts last night were a little scary to begin with, but then you didn’t show up to work? Anyways, I drove over to check on you, and your door was unlocked, so…” he gestures vaguely.

Shiro suddenly looks alarmed, “ _Shit_.”

“You okay?” Matt asks.

“Allura. _Work_. Shit.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Matt assures him, “I texted Allura and told her you’re at the hospital. Didn’t tell her why. Figured that was your business.”

Shiro’s brow furrows, “What day is it?"

“It’s Friday,” Matt responds calmly, “You’ve got the whole weekend to sort this out.”

“Time?” Shiro mumbles.

“Yeah,” Matt nods, “You’ve got time.”

“No, what time,” Shiro clarifies. He looks and sounds like he’s moments from falling asleep.

“Oh. It’s like 3pm,” Matt says, reaching out to brush a hand through his friend’s bangs. Shiro doesn’t respond. He’s already starting to snore.

\-----------

The next few hours mostly consist of Matt trying to keep boredom and anxiety at bay while Shiro sleeps. He plays his DS. He checks the internet. He eats half the snacks in his bag in one sitting. He tries to listen to music, but he stops after a couple songs because it drowns out the comforting roar of Shiro’s snoring. He asks way too many questions whenever a nurse stops by to check on his friend. He paces around the room. He texts his mom little updates about Shiro’s condition. He texts Pidge, but not about Shiro.

At one point he steps out to go to the bathroom and change out of his pajamas, but his heart is practically beating out of his chest by the time he returns. He has to know. He has to be sure that Shiro’s still okay. He doesn’t leave the room again after that.

Eventually, an orderly stops by with dinner for Shiro: some broth and a jello cup. Matt nudges him awake to see if he wants some before the broth gets cold.

Matt is holding Shiro’s jello cup steady for him to eat out of when they both hear a familiar voice, “A little birdy told me you might want an arm and some clothes this week!” They both look up to see Sam Holt standing in the doorway, holding a tote bag in one hand and waving Shiro’s prosthetic in the air with the other.

“Holy heck! A little forewarning would be nice, dad,” Matt responds, startled.

“Week?” Shiro blinks, accidentally dropping a spoonful of Jello on the table, “Wait, how long are they keeping me here?”

“Dunno,” Sam says, dragging over a chair and unceremoniously dumping the tote and Shiro’s arm on the unoccupied part of the table, “For all I know, they’ll let you out tomorrow. I doubt it, though. I suspect someone’s about to experience his first psych hospitalization.”

Shiro stiffens and sets down his spoon, abandoning the rest of his Jello, “No. I can’t.”

“Hmm, I doubt they’re gonna give you much choice on that one,” Sam clicks his tongue, “Piece of advice: don’t try and fight it. Always go in as a voluntary patient. They’ll let you out faster if you’re voluntary.”

“I have work,” Shiro insists, “It’s summer camp season. Both my coworkers are Muslim and it’s the middle of Ramadan. I _can’t_.”

“So you’re saying they need you?” prods Sam with a sly smile.

“Yes,” Shiro sets his jaw.

“Interesting…” Sam hums, “Veeery interesting…”

Shiro grumbles, “Okay, I see your point.”

“Seriously, though,” Sam locks eyes with Shiro, “They can live without you for a week or two if it means they get to keep you in the long run.”

Shiro looks unconvinced, “They said I’m already past the worst of it. I should be fine by Monday.”

“Kiddo, your body’s not the only thing that needs to heal,” Sam points out, putting a hand on Shiro’s shoulder, “No one’s gonna fault you for taking some time off to recuperate from something like this.

Shiro huffs.

“Dad, you sound like a travel ad for the psych ward,” Matt scoffs, “Soothing folk music plays. People run through the hospital halls in slow-mo. The camera zooms in on grown adults doing age-inappropriate craft projects. Come. Heal. Relax. See our beautiful brain hospital in sunny southern Arizona.”

Sam snorts, “Hardly. It’s usually terrible, sorry to say. Which is why I came to give you some things before you go.” He tilts his head towards the tote bag he brought in with him, “Care to investigate?”

Shiro sighs and pulls the bag into his lap, picking through its contents: t-shirts and underwear from his own house, a couple new pairs of sweatpants, a composition book and package of markers, slip-on sandals, some deodorant and… a threadbare green baby blanket. _Pidge’s_ green baby blanket. He blinks and looks up at Sam, “Why all this?”

“Well,” Sam says, sitting back in his chair, “The clothes are obvious. Colleen picked up some sweats without drawstrings, because apparently drawstrings are a strangulation hazard—”

“I think my pant legs are longer than most drawstrings,” Shiro points out petulantly.

“I didn’t say it was a _logical_ restriction,” Sam says with a shrug, “Anyways, pants you can wear. And shoes without laces, for the same reason. The deodorant is because hospital deodorant is useless at best, and the composition book and markers are so you can journal.”

Shiro quirks an eyebrow, “Markers?”

“Pens and pencils are too sharp,” Sam explains.

“That’s silly,” Matt interjects.

Sam laughs, “Agreed. But I don’t make the rules.”

“Is this…” Shiro murmurs, running his fingers over the blanket.

“It’s Pidge’s,” Sam smiles softly, “She’s worried about you, so she sent Blankie to keep you safe. Take good care of him.”

Shiro hugs the blanket to his chest, tears welling in his eyes, “I will.”

Sam squeezes Shiro’s shoulder, “Take care of yourself, too.”

Shiro nods and sniffles, “Okay. Thank you, Sam.”

Then Matt’s dad looks him in the eyes with a worried smile, “You doin’ okay, kiddo?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Matt forces a smile of his own.

Sam nods, “Alright. Give me or your mom a call if you need someone to pick you up or keep you company, okay? You don’t have to do this all on your own. Neither of you does.”

“Okay,” Matt agrees. He meets his dad at the foot of the bed for a hug, “Thanks Dad.”

\-----------

Once his dad leaves, Matt sits down and grabs Shiro’s hand, “My family loves you so much.”

Shiro responds with a tired smile, “I know.”

“ _I_ love you so much,” Matt adds quietly.

“I love you, too,” Shiro murmurs back, “All of you. I’m sorry, I… what I did was shitty.”

Matt just squeezes his friend’s hand and chews at his lip. It doesn’t take long for Shiro to fall back asleep.

\-----------

Apparently visiting is limited to immediate family members after 8pm. Matt doesn’t learn this until one of the nurses tries her very hardest to evict him from the hospital at nearly 1am. Thankfully, one of her coworkers shows up to scold her and apologize profusely to Matt. No one else questions his right to stay for the rest of the night, but after that he’s too anxious to even think about sleeping.

By the time Shiro wakes up at around 6am, Matt feels a little like someone smashed him in the face with a baseball bat.

“You okay, Matt?” Shiro yawns.

Matt just groans, face buried in his arms to shield his eyes from the hospital lights, “Didn’t sleep. None. Zero sleep. You?”

“Sore. Stiff. God, was yesterday even real?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Matt grunts.

Shiro takes a shaky breath, “God, Matt, I’m… fuck. I’m sorry.”

“I know,” Matt mumbles, “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

There’s a moment of silence, then Shiro asks quietly, “Did you stay here all night?”

“Yeah,” Matt grunts, “Wasn’t supposed to. Almost got kicked out. Oops.”

Shiro lets out a soft puff of laughter, then scoots to the side a bit, tapping at the now-open right side of the bed with his elbow, “Come nap?”

“What about your…” Matt tries to protest.

Shiro snorts, “I have half a right arm and it’s mostly scar tissue. Nothing’s hooked up on this side. Come nap. You look awful.”

“Oh, _I’m_ the one who looks awful, now?” Matt scoffs. But he takes the offer, crawling into bed with Shiro and burying his face in his friend’s right shoulder. His headache prevents him from actually falling asleep, but at least he manages to get a couple hours of rest before the doctor comes in and shoos him out of the room to do Shiro’s psych eval.

Matt isn’t really sure why he’s not allowed to be present for his friend’s psych eval. Shiro asked for him to stay, but the doctor was having none of it. So Matt uses it as an opportunity to go to the bathroom and buy some Excedrin from the hospital pharmacy. He still has some time, so he picks up some waffles and black tea from the cafeteria before heading back upstairs to Shiro’s room.

“Hey,” he greets as he slips back into his friend’s room, “What’s the verdict?”

“They’re admitting me,” Shiro’s voice is strained, like he’s trying not to cry.

“I mean, I guess we kinda knew that,” Matt says around the lump in his own throat.

“Yeah,” Shiro’s voice cracks.

Matt doesn’t say anything else, just crawls back into bed with Shiro and reaches across him to hold his left hand.

After several minutes, Shiro speaks again, “Gotta write down some phone numbers. You okay if we sit up?” Matt nods, so Shiro presses the button to bring the bed into a sitting position. Matt curls against his side as he sloppily copies phone numbers into his composition book. Then they cuddle up together until a pair of nurses come to load Shiro into a wheelchair and take him to his new room.

They give Matt some information about visiting hours and send him on his way. He sits on a bench outside and cries until his whole family comes and picks him up half an hour later. Then he gets home and cries in Pidge’s bed for another couple hours, until his head feels like it’s going to split open if he cries anymore.


	2. Sleeping for Years

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings: Psych hospitalization, medical abuse, overmedication + medication denial, suicide attempt mention, cursing, vomit
> 
> I guess I'm working on this fic again, 5 months later??? Decided I'm just gonna write the whole thing from Matt's POV, because apparently writing from Shiro's POV was a little _too_ many trauma feels for me. But... this is still a whole lot of trauma feels, so proceed with caution.

Matt is determined to make it to every visiting hour until Shiro gets out. If that means missing class, then so be it. But he has Monday afternoons free, so at least today that won’t be a problem.

He’s a little surprised when a mental health tech ushers him into what looks suspiciously like a school cafeteria. An _elementary_ school cafeteria, judging by the coloring pages and crayons strewn across some of the tables. Not that Matt has anything against a good old fashioned coloring session. Just… he was expecting something a little cozier? And more… mature? This is an adult ward, right? Is he even in the right hospital wing?

He nervously takes a seat in a slightly-broken plastic chair and grabs a Lisa Frank coloring page to fight back panic as he waits for his friend.

It takes almost 15 minutes for Shiro to show up, and when he does he looks like _shit_. He seems confused and uncertain why he’s even there, but as soon as Matt waves at him, he stumbles over and slides into the chair beside him, immediately burying his face in the crook of Matt’s neck. He’s _shaking_. Hard. Which scares Matt a little. More than a little.

“Hey,” Matt runs a gentle hand up and down his friend’s back, “I’ve missed you.”

“No touching!” scolds a burly tech.

Shiro pulls away and lays his head on the table. Outrage flares in Matt’s chest. This isn’t a hospital! This is some sick cross between a prison and a kindergarten. But he’s not sure anger is what his friend needs right now, so he pushes it down and reaches out a hand to squeeze Shiro’s.

“They said no touching,” Shiro slurs.

“Then we’ll just have to be sneaky,” Matt whispers, brushing his thumb over his friend’s knuckles.

The tiniest hint of a smile flickers across Shiro’s face, but it doesn’t last long.

“So, how’re you doin’ Kashi?” asks Matt, “Other than obviously shitty.”

“Don’t curse,” Shiro begs in a whisper, like he’s afraid _he’ll_ be punished if _Matt_ says ‘shit.’

This doesn’t seem like the time for a snarky comeback, so Matt just nods and squeezes Shiro’s hand, “Okay. But you still gotta answer the question. Dumb hospital won’t let you text, so I’m missing out on the usual live Shiro updates.”

“Sorry I haven’t called,” Shiro apologizes, “Haven’t gotten clearance to use the phone.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Matt assures him, “Just fill me in now.”

Shiro lets out a watery laugh, “They put me on antipsychotics. Took me off my anxiety meds.”

“ _Why?_ ” Matt blurts out, louder than he intended, “That’s like… the opposite of helpful. All your diagnoses are anxiety disorders! And wasn’t one of your meds an SSRI? Those have nasty withdrawals. No wonder you feel like sh—heck.”

Shiro’s breath hitches, “Nightmares are really bad, but I just keep… sleeping. All I can do is sleep. But the dreams feel real and… can’t scream. If I keep crying, they’ll never let me pee with the door closed.”

His words are slurred almost beyond recognition, so it takes Matt a moment to process what he’s saying. Slowly, though, the horror of the situation sinks in, “Wait, you’re still on suicide watch?”

Shiro nods.

“You haven’t… tried anything, though, have you?”

Shiro shakes his head.

“So… what? You just have to wait until they _arbitrarily decide_ you deserve privacy again?”

Shiro shrugs.

Matt can’t quite sort out what he wants to say next, but it turns out he doesn’t have to: a moment later, Shiro is sound asleep on the table. Matt gives his friend’s now-limp hand another squeeze and sneaks his other hand up to pet his hair while the looming tech isn’t looking. “I hate this,” he whispers, even though Shiro can’t hear him, “I _hate_ this.”

A couple minutes later, the tech is lured over by the raucous sound of Shiro’s snoring, insisting he has to go back to his room. Something about “no sleeping in common areas,” which Matt thinks is a little unfair in a place where everyone is medicated off their ass.

No guests are allowed in patient rooms, so Matt is forced to say a very swift goodbye to his half-asleep friend before being escorted out of the ward.

He doesn’t even make it to the elevator before he dissolves into tears, swerving into the nearest bathroom in hopes of sparing himself the shame of crying in front of strangers.

Shiro’s words echo in his head, “ _If I keep crying, they’ll never let me pee with the door closed._ ”

Matt gags on his tears, spitting a mouthful of bile into the sink beside him before sinking down to keep crying on the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't write the hospital staff in as much detail if I'm telling this from Matt's POV, but for the record: the tech in this is Sendak. And the doctor wrecking havoc on Shiro's meds is Haggar.


	3. Pick Through What is Left

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warnings: Psych hospitalization, medical abuse, medication withdrawal, cursing, passing vomit mention
> 
> Two chapters in one day! Things finally start to get... very marginally better in this chapter.

Matt sits at the same rickety cafeteria table when he arrives for visiting hours on Wednesday. No coloring sheets, this time. He sits rigid in his seat, desperately fighting the urge to stim for fear of being treated the way this place seems to treat their actual patients.

It doesn’t take his nervous energy long to win the fight. He bites his lip and tilts his unbalanced chair from side to side as quietly as he can manage. _Tap tap. Tap tap. Tap tap_. He wills his heart to match the steady rhythm, but it still feels ready to fly out of his chest.

Shiro shows up on time, today, much to Matt’s relief. He seems less groggy this time, too, and finds his way over to Matt’s table without prompting.

“Hey,” Matt greets, immediately reaching out a hand to his friend beneath the table.

“Hey,” Shiro echoes as he slides his hand into Matt’s. He’s shaking like a leaf, but his voice is clear.

“How you doin’?” Matt asks, giving his hand a squeeze, “You seem a little more…”

“Awake?” Shiro finishes for him with a quivery laugh.

“Yeah,” Matt nods.

“One of the nurses—Thace, he’s good—told me I can refuse meds. So I haven’t been taking the antipsychotics,” Shiro explains, “So I no longer feel like a dead man walking. But Dr. Haggar still won’t give me back my regular meds. So I’m kind of in withdrawal hell.”

“You mean withdrawal _heck_ ,” Matt chides playfully. He hopes the joke is okay.

Shiro chuckles and nods towards the tech on duty, “It’s fine. Antok’s cool.”

“Oh, cool,” says Matt, “So today I can point out that you look like shit without having to censor myself?”

Shiro snorts, “Do I?”

Matt looks his friend up and down. He looks about like he came down with the flu shortly after a death in the family. “Uh… yeah, you kinda do.”

“Fair,” Shiro says with a tired shrug, “I kinda _feel_ like shit, too, to be honest. I slept two hours last night. Everything hurts. I’m tired of throwing up half the things I eat and then being told it’s my own damn fault, even though it kind of is.”

Matt releases Shiro’s hand and pulls him into a wordless hug, running his fingers through his hair.

“Thanks,” Shiro murmurs into his friend’s shoulder.

“So,” says Matt after they separate and return to holding hands under the table, “They let you pee in peace, yet?”

A weary smile spreads across Shiro’s face, “Yeah. Finally. As of this morning.”

“Geeze,” says Matt, “They sure took their time on that one.”

“You’re tellin’ me,” Shiro says, suddenly bubbling with giddy laughter.

Silence falls over them for a moment—the kind of silence that would be comfortable any other time, but the knowledge they only get an hour and a half together puts a strain on the serenity. After a couple minutes, Shiro speaks up, “D’you wanna, um… do a puzzle?”

It’s a strange request, but hey. Everything about this situation is strange. Matt’s willing to roll with it. “Sure, okay,” he nods.

“Hang on,” Shiro says, almost tripping over a table leg as he stands up from his chair. He strolls over to a shelf in the corner, then returns with a puzzle box in hand and something close to a grin on his face, “I found this one yesterday. Somebody must’ve been _really_ bored, because they wrote numbers on the backs of all the pieces, in the order they go in. Wanna try putting it together upside-down without looking at the picture?”

Matt cackles, suddenly understanding why Shiro wanted to do this, “Heck yeah!”

They spend the rest of their time together carefully sorting puzzle pieces into piles by number, weeding out stray pieces from unrelated puzzles as they go. They’re nowhere close to finished by the time visiting hours are over, but Shiro doesn’t seem too upset.

“I’ll keep working on it tonight,” Shiro mumbles into Matt’s hair as they hug goodbye, “I’ll let you know how far I get before the techs make me clean it up.”

“Good!” Matt responds, “Keep me posted. I’ll be back on Friday, so you can tell me then. Or tomorrow, if they ever decide to like… give you phone clearance.”

Shiro smiles, “Alright, see you Friday.”

“Yeah,” Matt nods, “See you then!”

“Hey, uh…” Shiro says sheepishly as Matt turns to leave.

“Yeah?”

“Could you… do me a favor?” he asks, voice trembling.

“Probably. What kind of favor?”

“Y’know those ginger candies I get from the Asian market?” Shiro asks, “Could you… maybe pick some up to bring with you on Friday?”

Matt’s face lights up at the opportunity to actually _do something_ tangible to help his friend, “Yeah, of course I can!”

“Thanks, Matt,” Shiro murmurs, visibly relieved.

For the first time all week, Matt manages to leave the hospital without crying.


	4. Old Scarred Face

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warnings: Psych hospitalization, medical abuse, description of a panic attack, cursing
> 
> (My update schedule for this fic is an enigma.)

Shiro is late for visiting hours again on Saturday, leaving Matt fidgeting anxiously with the candy in his lap while he waits. The crinkle of the bag is a welcome distraction from the commotion around him and the empty seat beside him.

Almost 20 minutes into visiting hours, Shiro walks through the door and scrambles over to Matt, pulling him into a sloppy hug as soon as he reaches him. “Sorry. Sorry,” he apologizes breathlessly, “Doctor decided to meet with me for the first time in three days—” he gasps for air “—just as visiting hours were starting. Had to… had to…”

“Takashi,” Matt whispers, not sure the staff around them should hear what he’s about to say, “Are you having a panic attack?”

Shiro freezes, clutching Matt’s head to his chest just a little too tightly. His heart is _racing_ and his whole body is quivering.

So that’s a yes.

“ _Takashi_ ,” Matt whispers again, more insistently, “Can you sit down and breathe with me?”

Shiro complies, slowly releasing his friend’s head and sinking into the nearest chair. His eyes are still focused on some arbitrary point in the distance, and he’s still gasping for air like a fish out of water, but at least he’s sitting. That’s a start.

Matt hopes whichever staff are on duty aren’t paying enough attention to intervene.

“Good job. Hey, you’re gonna be okay,” he whispers in his best attempt at a soothing voice, trying desperately to keep _himself_ from panicking, “Can you breathe with me?”

Shiro responds by ducking his head down almost to his knees and clutching frantically at his hair with both hands. “I _can’t_ ,” he hisses through his teeth.

Shit.

This panic attack has ceased to be subtle. Matt needs to problem-solve fast, or this will be a very short visit. His eyes dart around, searching for something that might help. He clutches at the candy in his lap, drowning out his own anxiety with the comforting crinkle of—

OH.

“Kashi?” he asks gently, prying open the package and holding it out, “I brought candy, like you asked. Want some?”

Slowly and shakily, Shiro uncoils himself just enough to look up at Matt, panic waning but breathing still labored. His face is red and blotchy and _heartwrenchingly vulnerable_ in a way that reminds Matt just a little too much of the time they both almost died.

Matt shakes the candy bag invitingly and tilts the opening towards his friend, who cautiously reaches out and grabs a piece. He fumbles to unwrap it and put it in his mouth with shaky fingers. Matt does the same. Ginger isn’t his favorite, but hard candy gives him something to focus on other than the sound of his pulse in his ears or the fact that he can barely feel his own feet right now.

They spend the next several minutes silently sucking on their candy. Shiro grabs another piece as soon as his first dissolves. Matt busies himself folding his wrapper into various shapes.

Finally, Shiro breaks the silence with a quiet “thanks.”

“No problem,” says Matt, still fidgeting with his wrapper, “D’you uh… wanna talk about what happened or change the subject?”

After a moment of thought, Shiro replies somberly, “She uh—Dr. Haggar—she says I can’t go home if I keep refusing treatment.”

“ _What?_ ” Matt responds incredulously, “That sounds, uh… illegal?”

Shiro lets out a heavy sigh, “I don’t think it needs to be legal for her to get away with it.”

Matt frowns, “Isn’t there anyone you can… I dunno…”

“I see Ulaz—my social worker—right after this,” Shiro says, brow furrowed, “He seems to be… on our side, not hers. Maybe he can…”

“Ask him,” Matt says.

Shiro takes a deep breath, “Okay. Yeah. I’ll do that.”

“You okay?” Matt asks.

Shiro hums, “Nothing quite feels real, but… it’s okay. I’ll be okay.”

“Okay,” Matt says, then stuffs his candy wrapper in a pocket and holds out his hand, “Can I hold your hand?”

Shiro grabs his hand and squeezes it tight, “Yeah, of course.”

“So, uh…” Matt pipes up after a couple minutes of quiet, “What d’you wanna do for the rest of visiting hours?”

“Color?” suggests Shiro, pointing towards some crayons on the next table over.

Matt agrees enthusiastically, and they quickly relocate to the coloring table.

Somewhere in the midst of the coloring pages, they unearth an ancient sheet of age-inappropriate motivational stickers. Matt leaves the hospital with the word ‘AWESOME!’ plastered across his forehead and a thumbs up on his cheek. He giggles to himself as he wonders how long it’ll take Shiro to get all the gold stars off his prosthetic.


	5. Welcome Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warnings: Hospitalization, cursing, vomit-adjacent grossness... nothing you haven't seen in previous chapters
> 
> IT'S FINALLY DONE!! Finally a hopeful resolution for these poor sad friends. (Also, I'm decreasing the rating on this from E to M, because it didn't get nearly as distressing or graphic as I was initially expecting it to get?)

Matt almost doesn’t answer the mysterious collect call on Saturday afternoon, but he’s glad he did because a familiar voice greets him as soon as he accepts the call.

“Guess who got phone clearance,” says Shiro.

“Finally!” Matt practically shouts into his phone, “Heck. How’re you doing? Was your social worker any help?”

“Yeah,” Matt can practically hear the smile in Shiro’s voice, “He was. He’s the one who got me phone clearance. And he’s pretty sure he can get me out of this nightmare by… Tuesday? Maybe even Monday if we’re lucky. I guess this kinda thing happens a lot around here, because he knew exactly what to do.”

Matt lets out a breath of relief, “Thank _god_. What a hellhole. The horror movie industry has it all backwards: the patients aren’t the scary part of psych wards! The _staff_ are!”

Shiro laughs, “You got that right. I’m so ready to come home. God, I… hey, actually, can I ask you something?”

“Go for it,” Matt nods, even though his friend can’t see him.

“When I get out of here it might… be a few days until I get my meds unfucked,” Shiro says, “I’m not sure I… Um, how would you feel about me staying at your place for a while?”

“Of course you can!” Matt replies, “You’re always welcome at the Holtel, friend.”

“Thanks,” Shiro says, chuckling slightly at the pun, “Uh, I’m about to get kicked off the phone, but I’ll try and keep you updated if they, y’know… let me.”

“Cool, thanks!” says Matt, “Talk to you later.”

“Bye.”

As soon as Shiro hangs up, dread washes over Matt. When will Shiro be released? Will he know in advance? What if it happens while Matt is in class? What if he can’t pick him up right away and he ends up stranded in the hospital lobby for hours on end? He can only imagine how distressing that would be for Shiro, especially without his meds. Fuck fuck _fuck_.

Matt crumples to his bedroom floor and rips at his hair in frustration until Pidge knocks on his door to ask where all the Philip’s head screwdrivers went. (He has no more idea than she does, but the ensuing search is a welcome distraction.)

\-----------

Matt doesn’t get any more phone calls until Monday morning, just as he’s about to head into his 3-hour-long biochem class. This time the voice on the other end is unfamiliar, leaving him scrambling to process what he’s hearing.

Shiro is being discharged! When? Today? Yes. But what time? After lunch, apparently. When the fuck is lunch? 1pm. Does that mean it _starts_ at 1pm or _ends_ at 1pm? Ends at 1pm. Okay, he should be able to make it on time if he heads straight to the hospital after class. Wow, talk about short notice! 

Okay.

Okay.

This will be alright. This is a good thing. No need to panic.

He thanks the person on the phone—they introduced themself, but he didn’t catch their name—and heads into class.

…ten minutes later, he excuses himself to go have a panic attack in the hallway and then call his mom, begging her to come pick Shiro up with him.

\-----------

Pidge tags along to the hospital, too. Matt’s grateful for the extra company, honestly. They spend the ride arguing about the logistics of sarlacc digestion.

When they get to the hospital, they’re directed to a small room just outside the psych unit, where Shiro is waiting with his social worker.

“Come to retrieve your friend?” Ulaz asks calmly. Matt immediately recognizes his voice from the phone.

“We have indeed!” replies Colleen, “How’re you feeling, Takashi?”

“’m okay,” Shiro responds, ducking his head bashfully.

“You better be!” demands Pidge, crossing her arms.

“I am,” Shiro promises, offering her a fragile smile.

“C’mere, you,” Matt says, stepping forward with his arms open.

Shiro engulfs him in a hug so tight that it cracks his back, burying his face in his hair.

“I missed you _so much_ ,” Matt mumbles against his friend’s collarbone.

Shiro hums in quiet agreement.

Colleen and Pidge converge upon them a moment later, making it a group hug.

\-----------

Shiro’s quiet on the drive home, speaking only when Colleen asks him what he wants for his welcome home dinner.

“I’m not that hungry, actually,” he says softly.

“Of course you aren’t,” she laughs, “You just had lunch. But I’m sure you’ll want dinner _eventually_. So when _eventually_ comes, what would you like me to make?”

“Maybe just… some rice?” Shiro says. The strain in his voice, combined with his impressively boring meal request, makes Matt suspect he’s still feeling nauseous.

“Just rice?” Colleen quirks her eyebrow in the rearview mirror, “All by itself? Nothing else? My, how extravagant.”

“You probably don’t have any pickled ginger, huh?” Shiro asks.

“We can,” Colleen responds, “Would you like me to pick some up?”

“Yes, please,” Shiro gives a small nod and closes his eyes.

“Hey, uh,” Matt pipes up, “In the interest of _not_ making Shiro puke all over the nearest person—namely, me—could we maybe talk about… not food?”

“Oh! I know what we can talk about!” Pidge bounces in her seat and looks back at Matt and Shiro, “Hey Shiro, what are your thoughts on sarlacc digestion?”

Shiro just groans.

“Not helping!” Matt objects.

\-----------

When they get home, Shiro excuses himself almost immediately.

“Think I’m gonna lay down for a bit, if that’s okay,” he murmurs as he slips off his shoes at the door, “Just… feeling a little lightheaded.”

“Go for it,” Matt responds, “You know where my room is, right?”

“Are you sure…” Shiro’s brow furrows.

Matt rolls his eyes, “It’s not like it’s the first time you’ve slept in my room. Or the second. Or the third. Or the sixtieth. Go lay down, buddy, you look like crap.”

“Thanks,” Shiro manages a tired smile before shuffling off towards Matt’s room.

Matt stares listlessly after him. He imagines Shiro could use a little privacy after having so little of it at the hospital, but… god, he’s missed him.

His melancholy is interrupted by Pidge jabbing a finger into his shoulder, “Sooo… Spyro?”

Matt grins. Nothing like retro video games to sooth the soul. “Bet I can catch the egg thief before you!”

Pidge snorts, “No you won’t. You’ll just launch yourself into the abyss 50 times in a row like you always do.”

Which… is a fair assessment. But at least flinging himself into a video game void ad nauseam for a while will keep his brain off of how much he wants to go pester Shiro.

\-----------

“Do _you_ remember where the last egg is on this level?” Pidge grumbles an hour or so later.

“Not a _clue_ ,” Matt shakes his head, “What me to look it up?”

“No,” she responds through gritted teeth, “I got this.”

Matt raises an eyebrow, “If you say so.”

“I do say so.”

“Welp,” Matt says, hefting himself off the bedraggled basement couch, “While you look for that, I’m gonna grab my charger cord. My phone’s on its last legs over here.”

“You just wanna check on Shiro.” Pidge accuses, smirking but not looking away from the TV.

“Nuh-uh,” Matt defends, “I’m at like 4% battery.”

(Okay, and maybe he wants to check on Shiro, too. Just a little bit.)

“Whatever you say,” Pidge rolls her eyes, “See you in like three hours.”

Matt pokes his tongue out at his sister and then makes his way upstairs. He knocks when he reaches his room, “Can I come in for a sec?”

“Yeah,” Shiro responds from inside, his voice almost too quiet to hear from the hall.

“Cool, thanks,” Matt twists the knob and pushes open the door, “Just gotta grab my charger cord real quick, then I’ll be out of your—aw, _buddy_.”

Shiro has pulled the wastebasket onto the bed with him and is hunched over it, a string of drool trickling from his open mouth.

Matt resists the urge to immediately rush to his friend’s side. He looks absolutely miserable, but Matt doesn’t want to assume he wants company, “D’you… want me to come sit with you, or should I buzz off and give you some privacy?”

“Sit with me,” Shiro says weakly, “Please.”

“Okay,” Matt relaxes, strolling over and taking a seat beside his friend, “I can do that.”

“Tha—” Shiro’s shoulders roll in a silent gag, bringing up another cascade of saliva, “—anks.”

“Geeze” Matt places a hand in the middle of his friend’s back, rubbing with his thumb.

“Sorry,” says Shiro, sitting up a bit and doing his best to wipe his face.

Matt blinks, “What? Why?”

Shiro shakes his head slowly, “Just… sorry.”

“You’re fine,” Matt affectionately presses his forehead against his friend’s shoulder, “None of this is _your_ fault.”

Shiro chuckles bitterly, “I mean… It’s at least a little bit my fault.”

“Maybe,” Matt says, “But mostly it’s not. And uh… can I be blunt?”

“Yeah, go for it,” Shiro responds with half a shrug.

Matt sits up to look at Shiro’s face, “Isn’t beating yourself up over things that are only like 5% your fault… exactly what got you into this mess to begin with?”

Silence falls over them as Shiro absorbs Matt’s words. Finally, after what seems like half an eternity, Shiro sighs, “You’re right. I know you’re right, but I still feel bad.”

“Yeah, I know,” Matt lays his head back down on his friend’s shoulder and resumes rubbing his back, “I know. It sucks.”

“Thanks,” Shiro responds simply, “Sorry I’m a mess.”

“It’s fine,” Matt shrugs, “Not like you’re the only mess in the room. You’re in good company.”

Shiro cracks a tiny smile at this and leans into Matt’s touch.

“I’m so glad you’re back,” Matt murmurs, voice cracking, “I’m so glad you’re back, Shiro. I thought… I was so scared.”

“Sorry,” Shiro whispers reflexively.

Matt doesn’t argue, just presses his lips to Shiro’s temple and whispers back, “It’s okay. You’re okay. I’m just glad you’re back.”

“I’m glad I’m back, too,” Shiro admits quietly.

“Good,” Matt smiles, “Glad we’re on the same page.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you wanna come say hi, I'm [Agapostemon](https://agapostemon.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr!
> 
> Please remember that I write purely for fun and catharsis. My fics are unbeta’d and minimally proofread. They’re not perfect, and that’s okay. If you notice something I could fix or improve, please keep those thoughts to yourself. If I genuinely want critique, I’ll ask a close friend in private. **Surprise critiques are very stressful and discouraging.** Especially on fics as personal as this one. Thanks for understanding!


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